Not Exactly
by BethBrokes
Summary: When Helen Magnus asks if she's single, Sam Carter gives her standard response, and is intrigued to find out that Helen knows -exactly- what she means. Smut, pure and simple. Well, simple anyway.
1. Chapter 1

**Setting: **Sometime during SG-1 season 9 or 10, and therefore before Sanctuary season 1.  
><strong>Prompt: '<strong>Mandy²**' -** from Eisette and thoroughly seconded by a _lot _of other people.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>When Helen Magnus asks if she's single, Sam Carter gives her standard response, and is intrigued to find out that Helen knows -exactly- what she means. Prelude to smut  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Helen Magnus/Sam Carter, with hints at Sam/Jack because they're endgame.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>mild M  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>If I owned Helen Magnus, Sam Carter, or anything associated with them, this (and a lot of other things) would be canon and I'd be able to afford a one-way ticket to Vancouver.  
><strong>AN: **Unbeta'd smut. I apologise for the awful quality but hey, it's Amanda Tapping getting it on with herself – it can't be too horrible, right? Second part soon.

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><p>"Are you single, Colonel?" Long, slender, stockinged legs pressed against her own, denim-clad ones, and she wondered if it was solely accidental. Sure, the window seat in Helen's office sagged a bit in the middle, drawing them closer, but Helen showed no signs of trying to shift away.<p>

Sam looked down at her wine – a well-deserved treat for catching a group of rogue NID operatives working out of Old City – watching it swirl around the glass as she replied, unable to meet Helen's eye.

"Not exactly." she said quietly, hoping Helen wouldn't ask any further questions – she had a feeling it would be impossible to hide much from the mysterious brunette, who had turned up with her team to free the so-called 'abnormals' the NID agents had been experimenting on at just the right moment, serving as impromptu, yet well-needed, backup when the mission turned out to be an ambush.

Fortunately, Helen smiled knowingly, nodding slightly before she took a sip of her own wine.

"Ah, of course. Jack?"

Sam turned sharply to look at Helen, who retained her look of amusement. "How did you know? Is it _that _obvious?"

Helen chuckled, reaching out her free hand to pat Sam's leg in reassurance. "No, don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." Her hand slipped back to its place on the seat beside her. Slowly. "You're forgetting – I know Jack O'Neill. Very well, in fact." She took another sip of wine, eyes clouded for a moment, a slight smile on her full lips, as if recalling a fond memory. It wasn't missed by Sam.

"Wait, when you say you know him 'very well'...?" She let the question hang in mid-air, unsure if she wanted to ask it. On the one hand, the thought of anyone with Jack in that way was unsettling – even through the wine and exhaustion she knew _that _was probably jealousy. On the other hand, however, there was something dangerously _exciting _about the thought of both the inscrutable Helen Magnus and the equally unreadable Jack O'Neill together. She couldn't stop the blush that spread across her cheeks, nor the slight flutter in her breathing caused by the mental image of the two tangled together in one of the four-poster beds she'd glimpsed in the bedrooms she and Helen had passed on their way here, limbs entwined, fingers clutching creased sheets... Lifting the wine glass to her lips with a forcibly-steadied hand, she took a slow sip, dismissing the image and focusing instead on the woman next to her, whose head was tilted in amusement, waiting for Sam to lower her glass again before she spoke. Her rich voice spoke casually words that made Sam's stomach flutter, and she was glad her wine glass was safely rested in her lap.

"I mean we were lovers, yes."

"Really?" Helen chuckled at the tone of incredulity in Sam's voice, tipping her head back a little as she did so.

"Really." For some reason, Helen moved to set her wine down on the side-table to her left, leaning away from Sam to do so, and Sam couldn't help but notice the way the older woman's charcoal pencil skirt fit snugly to her toned body, meeting the fitted blouse that strained, even at the back, with the stress of her generous chest.

Then Helen was back in her original position, a slight smirk on her lips at seeing the quick upwards flicker of Sam's gaze.

"He mentioned you, you know. The brilliant Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter." There was a fondness in the upwards curve of her lips as she spoke, though her eyes seemed to be searching Sam's face for something, lingering on her lips, the flush in her cheeks, then meeting and holding her blue eyes – sparkling from something other than the wine. "I do believe he even called your name once or twice at, shall we say, inappropriate times." The last was delivered in an all-too-innocent tone, but the smirk had returned full-force, and there was no mistaking Helen's intentions now – to tease, to flirt, and possibly to initiate something Sam was becoming increasingly sure she would readily welcome.

Sam somehow managed to keep her voice steady as she raised an eyebrow and replied to Helen's comment. "Really? Wow. I'm not entirely sure I'd do the same."

And suddenly Sam knew why Helen had set her glass down. A perfectly manicured hand was sliding slowly up her left thigh, almost absent-mindedly stroking through the denim of her jeans.

"Care to find out?"

Magnus' tongue darted out to lick her lips, though her steel-blue eyes remained fixed on Sam's, and Sam could barely drag her gaze away from them to meet Helen's. She bit her lip, still slightly hesitant, and she the way that affected Helen's otherwise-calm demeanour from the way her chest shuddered with the momentary hitch in her breathing.

"Well I guess if Jack thought it was a good idea..."

A softly accented laugh accompanied the arrival of Helen's other hand on the small of Sam's back, complementing its left twin's hastened progress to her inner thigh. "Although I wouldn't normally support that logic, I think you may be right there, Samantha." She drew closer so their lips were almost touching, before giving Sam the briefest of kisses on the lips and ducking to her neck, peppering Sam's soft skin with kisses, causing her to tilt her head back and let out the slightest of moans, before murmuring one last coherent response.

"Oh yeah, _definitely_ a good idea."


	2. Chapter 2

**Setting: **Sometime during SG-1 season 9 or 10, and therefore before Sanctuary season 1.

**Prompt: '**Mandy²**' -** from Eisette (alotmorethanimsupposedto on Tumblr) and thoroughly seconded by a _lot _of other people :P

**Summary: **When Helen Magnus asks if she's single, Sam Carter gives her standard response, and is intrigued to find out that Helen knows -exactly- what she means. Smut, pure and simple. Well, simple anyway.

**Pairing: **Helen Magnus/Sam Carter, with hints at Sam/Jack because they're endgame.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Helen Magnus, Sam Carter, or anything associated with them, this (and a lot of other things) would be canon and I'd be able to afford a one-way ticket to Vancouver.

**A/N: **Unbeta'd again. But still, it's Amanda-on-Amanda action, which can never be a bad thing.

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><p>Sam's hands tangled in Helen's long dark hair as Helen began to make her way down Sam's neck and chest, starting at her slightly parted lips, through which she drew ragged breaths, and working her way along Sam's jaw with tiny kisses, to the spot just below her ear, where she lingered for a second, sucking gently before continuing down Sam's neck, halting again when she reached the collarbone to unzip Sam's soft leather jacket and undo the top few buttons of her blouse, revealing delicately freckled cleavage to Helen's satisfied gaze. She resumed her place at Sam's collarbone, pressing a quick kiss to it as her lips hovered millimetres above the younger woman.<p>

Sam felt Magnus' tongue dart out to moisten her soft lips, inadvertently brushing against Sam - causing a charge to sweep across her skin that made her tremble - and she could feel the curve of Magnus' smile as she resumed her trail of kisses, inwards along Sam's collarbone, then down – far too slowly – to trace the curve of Sam's right breast, stopping only momentarily to push away any fabric in her path with long, slender fingers – her left hand still casually resting on the top of Sam's thigh. Then Helen began to move her mouth up from the soft underside of Sam's breast, peppering the flesh with tiny kisses, spiralling inwards with her lips and tongue as Sam's fingers clutched desperately at Helen's hair and her head fell absently backwards against the cushions of the cosy window-seat.

The movement meant Helen deviated from her calculated circles, as Sam's already hardened nipple brushed against her mouth and she smirked, dipping her head further to capture it between her lips. She was rewarded with a quiet yet guttural moan from Sam as she caught it in her teeth gently, sweeping her tongue over it again and again, while bringing her right hand across to unbutton the impeding blouse down to Sam's navel, slipping it off her shoulders when she'd finished so it was hanging off her arms, and slipping a hand into the remaining fabric to reach for the clasp of Sam's sweet but practical cotton and lace bra, through which the other nipple was visibly peaked.

As deft fingers undid the clasp, Sam's bra slipped off her shoulders to join her blouse in hanging loosely about her arms - which were still fisting in Helen's hair, the slight tugging seemingly only encouraging the older woman to pay even more attention to her breast – alternating between sucking and flicking the nipple with her ingenious tongue, and grazing it and the soft flesh surrounding it with her teeth.

Sam could feel the arousal building between her thighs, now more aware than ever of the fingers of Helen's left hand nonchalantly stroking the fabric only inches away from where she really wanted them to be.

"Helen..." The name came out breathily and strained on a wave of pleasure caused by the other woman softly tweaking the nipple she'd just freed between forefinger and thumb, the nails scraping lightly at her sensitive skin. Once more, she felt the smirk against her flesh, before Helen raised her head a little, and released the swollen nub from between her lips – though still continuing to work the other with her fingers, rolling it between them.

"Sam?"

Her richly-accented voice was as heavy with desire as Sam's, but nowhere near as breathless, and Sam found herself wanting to change that.

"You're... having all the fun..." Magnus grinned, and Sam couldn't help but mirror it.

"By all means, Samantha; have a go yourself." Magnus withdrew her hand and body, leaving Sam's chest exposed, clothes hanging off her shoulders, her large breasts rising and falling more noticeably than usual with the heaviness of her breath as she took a moment to watch Magnus' amused expression. The only contact they had with each other now was Magnus' hand casually resting across Sam's laps, fingertips falling into the gap between her thighs as if she'd forgotten it was there – except for the way her thumb lightly stroked her leg through the fabric, Sam might have thought that was the case.

Glancing down at her lap, then back up to Helen, Sam raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips in mock disapproval. Helen pouted, deliberately sliding her hand off and into her own lap, but remaining angled towards Sam, her stockinged knees brushing against the denim of Sam's as they both paused to catch their breath. At the light touch Sam moved her hand almost reflexively to stop the movement, placing her hand on Magnus' knee. She removed it almost instantly, but only to fully remove the clothing still slipping off her shoulders, and when her upper body was fully exposed, she replaced her hand, slowly and deliberately, on Helen's lower thigh.

Magnus arched an eyebrow, her tongue darting out reflexively to moisten her lips, and Sam all but smirked at the sight. She began to move her hand up, fingertips crawling slowly along the nylon of Helen's stockings with the lightest of touches – all the while keeping her eyes on Helen; who matched her eyes with a smirk. As Sam reached the hem of Magnus' skirt, the brunette shifted to allow her to push it up and, in doing so, let her eyes flick down for a second, allowing Sam to lean in and meet her returning gaze with a kiss that muffled Helen's 'oh' of surprise.

She abandoned all pretence of teasing Helen as she pushed the older woman down onto the cushions, sliding her hand up to reach the bare flesh at the top of her stockings. She curved her path inwards, spreading Magnus' thighs with one hand while the other supported her position an inch or two above the now horizontal Magnus, resisting the attempts of Helen's hands on her waist to pull her down closer, and straddling her as she rucked her skirt up. Her bare chest was pressed against the cotton of Helen's blouse, which slid across Sam's skin with far too little friction. Sam sat up on her knees, surveying the tight fabric over Helen's breasts with a critical eye, deciding what to do next while her hand paused at the start of her lover's underwear. Then she smiled, apparently having made her decision.

"Take off your blouse for me, Doctor Magnus."  
>Chuckling, Helen slipped her hands from Sam's waist and began to unbutton her blouse, pulling the fabric apart as far as possible as she did so, until her chest was bare – save for the navy blue lace bra that did nothing to hide the effect Sam had on her. It was cut so low it barely covered her ample chest, the upper edge millimetres away from her nipples in its plunging trail along her breasts. Sam went to slip it off her shoulders with her free hand and Helen moved accordingly to remove it, gasping at the accidental pressure of Sam's other hand against the matching lace of her underwear.<br>Sam smiled, leaning down to press another kiss to Helen's lips before pulling away and sitting up again, watching how the inadvertent movement of her fingers caused the woman's breathing to hitch, and how that caused her full breasts to strain even more against the flimsy lace trapping them.  
>This was turning out to be even more fun than expected, and Sam was more than happy to ignore the building wetness in her sensible cotton underwear for the chance to explore the woman beneath her.<p>

"Bra, Helen." It was her officer voice, and she used it unintentionally, but Helen seemed amused, even in her distracted state.  
>"Yes, ma'am." Helen's tone alone would have been seen as insubordination, let alone the twitch of mirth on her lips as she took her bra off, tossing it away and causing her breasts to pool free against her chest. Sam bit her lip at the sight, and Helen noticed, the satisfaction evident in the way her lips framed her next words.<br>"Satisfactory, Colonel?"

In response, Sam pressed two fingers against the thin silk gusset of Helen's underwear, then began to stroke lightly over the fabric, causing just-visible tremors through Helen's exposed flesh.  
>"You tell me."<p>

Sam lowered herself a little over Helen, letting her breasts fall against her lover's as she leant down slightly – enough that she could feel the irregular rhythm of the warm breath now against her cheek.

Bringing her lips down to meet Helen's, Sam kissed her, muffling the small moan of disappointment as she moved her hand away from the damp material at her fingertips. Helen strained beneath her, fingers clutching at Sam's waist. angling her hips upwards as if to retrieve Sam's touch, but Sam manoeuvred herself up Helen's body, breaking contact with her lips, enjoying the way her own breasts slid across Helen's as her hand connected with the top of Helen's knickers, sliding in to resume her previous stroking; fingertips skimming the hot, damp curls, and occasionally allowing a fingernail to trail against her clit, sending further tremors dancing through Helen's body – always keeping a steady pace, as slowly and softly as possible, teasing Helen.

In retaliation, Helen slid her right hand up Sam's side from her waist to pinch Sam's nipple between her thumb and forefinger, grasping as much of the surrounding flesh with her remaining fingers as was possible, digging the nails in and causing Sam's fingers to press hard against her in surprise, stimulating her over-sensitive nerves as they were pressed against bone.

"Samantha!" Magnus' gasp, and the desperate tone in , which it was delivered, caused Sam to increase the pace of her ministrations, dipping further into the hot, wetness and pressing harder against Magnus' clit, reducing her to ragged gasps.

As Sam felt Magnus' orgasm building from the confused breaths and disjointed tremors that swept her lover's body, she lowered her body again, sliding down Helen's chest to push the inconvenient scrap of underwear to one side. Helen's hands moved once more to grab Sam's back, and Sam lazily latched onto a nipple, sucking and gently teasing with her teeth, while her hand again found its place in Helen's underwear. Using her thumb to press hazy circles across the delicate cluster of nerves, she slipped two fingers easily into Helen, carefully flexing them until she found the spot that made Helen's back arch a little. Ignoring the distracted clawing at her back, she began to move her long fingers in and out, pivoting her hand so as the internal stimulation was lost each time, her thumb moved to rub against Helen's clit, then back as Sam pressed deep inside her. With a final penetrating curl of Sam's fingers, Helen fell apart, shuddering against the soft kisses Sam planted across her chest as she continued to stimulate her with flicks of her thumbnail, bringing her down slowly as the waves of pleasure gradually subsided.

Still panting, Helen managed to speak as Sam withdrew her fingers.

"Your turn, I believe, Colonel Carter."


End file.
